


Crush

by ShihoMiyano



Series: Mystrade Oneshots [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Greg Lestrade, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShihoMiyano/pseuds/ShihoMiyano
Summary: Greg got the opportunity to do something about his long time crush on Mycroft.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Oneshots [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974031
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently hooked up another monitor to my laptop and finally identified names of songs I liked since I can now quickly look at the title as they play, hence sudden inspirations from songs.
> 
> This was inspired by Yuna's Crush ft. Usher.  
> [YouTube Link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SGHPQ2FVm8)  
> [ Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/yuna/crush.html)

“DCI Lestrade, I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Call me Greg and add in some [spotted dicks](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spotted_dick),” Mycroft choked on his tea, “banoffee pies, tiramisus, Jura Red Wine Cask Edition, and a new suit because Sherlock ruined several of mine on top of all the other favours you owe me, then we’ll talk shop.” Greg grinned.

They were in Greg’s office in New Scotland Yard. Mycroft placed the mug in his hand on the desk and wiped his mouth with tissues Greg handed him. He looked at the silver haired and asked, “Is that all?”.

“This is BEFORE I hear what this favour is all about.” Greg propped his left elbow up on the table and rested his chin on his hand, looking mischievously at Mycroft while twirling his pen on his right hand.

Mycroft’s heartbeat quickened a little. The policeman has no idea how much power he has over Mycroft’s heart. The minor government official cleared his throat and explained.

“There is a gala which I am forced to attend and I must bring a plus one. Would you do me the honours?” ‘Stay professional, stay professional, stay professional.’ Mycroft repeated the mantra in his head to stay calm and not blush.

Greg’s eyebrow arched. “This is some undercover work?”

“In a way. But we will be using our real identities.”

“Why me?” Greg asked curiously. “I’m sure there’s suitable younger agents who can play the arm candy and spy part much better than me.”

“Gregory, you are much more capable than the bunch of toddlers and can melt anyone with that smile of yours.” ‘Shit. Slip of tongue.’ Mycroft mentally banged his head on the wall.

“Oh?” Greg leaned forward. “Do I make you melt too?” The big brown eyes almost did that to Mycroft but he was saved by a vibrating phone in his breast pocket.

“Excuse me, Lestrade. I must answer this call.” Mycroft answered the call and tried as he might, the Prime Minister continued on and on about one thing or another. Greg got up and left his office with the door closed behind him to give Mycroft some privacy. Even though his security clearance level is high enough to be allowed to listen in to Mycroft’s conversations related to his work, he prefers not to actually know anything about it unless informed on purpose.

Mycroft was just done with his call when Greg came back smelling strongly of chocolate. Greg opened the paper bag containing two chocolate muffins and showed Mycroft. Mycroft stared at the muffins and his stomach betrayed him by rumbling loudly. Greg chuckled and gave Mycroft one of the muffins. 

“Thank you.” Mycroft mumbled as he peeled off the muffin liners and ate as politely as possible for a man who had not eaten anything 10 hours prior to this meeting.

Mycroft was tempted to lick the chocolate residue off the silver fox’s lips. Mycroft’s breath hitched when Greg licked his lips clean before drinking tea from his mug. “When is this gala?” asked Greg, stopping Mycroft’s lewd thoughts.

“Next week Friday. Will you join me?”

“Hrmmmmmm.”

“What would you like to have if you agree to this?”

Greg smiled seductively, at least from Mycroft’s point of view. “A full weekend with you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You and me together, just the two of us for a weekend without work and Sherlock.”

Mycroft’s mouth was moving without any voice heard. He had expected monetary compensation or some form of material compensation. But then again, this is Gregory Lestrade who had never once demanded any of such throughout the years he looked out for Sherlock.

“Surely you do not want to waste this opportunity to just spend the weekend with me?”

“It’s something I won’t be able to ask for again.” The man is now making puppy eyes at Mycroft. “Do we have an agreement?” Mycroft could no longer control his blushes. He nodded in agreement. “YAY!”

\---

That very evening, Mycoft took Greg to his tailor to take his measurements for the evening wear required for the gala. Both Mycroft and the tailor were speaking in martian so he left the design decisions to Mycroft. While they were deciding on a place for dinner, Greg was called away to attend to a case nearby. He apologized, pecked on Mycroft’s cheek and left hurriedly. Mycroft was left rooted where he stood with wide eyes and a hand covering his cheek. The older man will be the death of him.

\---

Some form of pastries were delivered to Greg’s office every other day. His colleagues were getting curious and a bit jealous with the free pastries.

“Who’s the lucky girl, Lestrade?” Dimmock asked when Greg offered to share his banoffee pie.

“Oh, it’s just a friend owing me a few favours.”

“So your friend is returning the favour with pastries?”

“Yup. That’s what I asked for.”

“Right…”

“If you’re not eating that, I’ll take it back.” Dimmock quickly walked off with the piece of pie.

Greg had to go back to the tailors for a fitting session on his own a few days later. The Jura Whiskey he asked for was on his dining table in his flat when he returned home one night. Anthea briefed him two days before the gala because Mycroft was out of the country.

“Do I need to kiss him or anything like that?” Greg asked because he needs to know what was his exact role as a plus one.

Anthea smirked. Her boss would never be able to do this briefing even if he was in the country. “If the situation requires, yes, the both of you need to kiss. On the lips. Like a loving couple. Your cover story is that both of you had been involved romantically for some time but had only now decided to show the world.”

“Oh. Would Mycroft be alright with that?”

“He doesn’t really have a choice.”

Greg frowned. “What kind of mission requires Mycroft to be a loaded openly gay Earl? He is loaded, not many knew he is an Earl but he never openly admitted being gay.”

“A highly classified mission.”

“Ookay… Do I need my gun?”

“Yes, please. Your suit has been fitted to comfortably conceal your gun and other weapons of your preference.”

Greg tilted his head looking innocently. “We have access to your complete, unredacted files, Detective Chief Inspector.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about~” Greg said in a sing-song voice and caught a flying knife in front of him. “Nice.” Greg threw it back at Anthea who caught it and put it away.

Anthea had packed everything he needed and all they needed to do was wait for the night.

\---

Greg had predicted that he would not be able to make it back to his flat to prepare for the gala so he brought whatever he had to put on to his office and informed Anthea that he had to be picked up from New Scotland Yard. When it was time, he went off to shower and dressed back in the clothes he was wearing during the day. He changed to his new suit in his office. His holsters and various knives fitted perfectly. Greg even performed several somersaults to test it out. Good thing his current office is big enough for such a maneuver. He received a text alert from Anthea that Mycroft should arrive in 10 minutes for him.

“Showtime!” Greg grinned. He cannot wait to further seduce Mycroft. He's tired of pining for the man for years. If the promised weekend doesn't work out, he needs to move on. 

As he walked across the office, some people were whistling at him. Sally, Dimmock, Gregson, Chief Superintendent Mason and the Commander openly stared at him while they waited for the lift to reach their floor. Greg made small talk with them, avoiding to mention where exactly he was going and with whom. Unfortunately they were also exiting the building and saw Mycroft arrive in a [Ferrari 250 GTO](https://www.ferrari.com/en-US/auto/250-gto) to pick him up.

‘Ah well. Here goes nothing.’ Greg thought as he walked over to a stunning stunned Mycroft. He kissed Mycroft’s cheek and said, “Ready to leave now, gorgeous?” Mycroft nodded and opened the passenger door for Greg.

\---

Greg and Mycroft played up to the description of their cover story convincing enough that they managed to get proof of something Mycroft wanted to hold against the offensive man who had been leering at Mycroft all night. Greg felt a bit uneasy as the night proceeded. A few steps out of the washroom and they were surrounded by burly men trying to get their hands on them.

Greg managed to break someone’s leg and another’s arm. He managed to stab a shoulder and two thighs. He got to also listen to several joints snapping loudly. Not that he had enjoyed it but he took satisfaction in them, knowing that Mycroft is safe from these people.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” asked Greg as agents secured the perimeter and took the injured men out of their sight.

“I-I’m fine. Are you?”

“Hrm?” Greg embraced Mycroft and nuzzled into the taller man’s neck. “Only at the fact that we have to stop pretending to be a lovey dovey couple.”

Mycroft looked too adorable for him not to be kissed on the lips. Their lips almost met when Greg suddenly took out his gun and shot one of the men who got loose from the agents’ grasps. It was a shot between the eyebrows, his favourite target when he is required to shoot.

“Anyone else want me to shoot them dead too?” Greg asked in his sing-song voice. No more struggling or threats heard from the captives.

\---

Mycroft and Greg are now in Mycroft’s living room, sitting in front of the fireplace on a sofa, sipping some of the Jura Whiskey. Mycroft assured him that it was a different bottle than the one in his flat. When their tumblers dried up, Mycroft got up to fetch the bottle but Greg pulled him down onto the sofa and straddled his hip.

“Mycroft.” Greg whispered over Mycroft’s lips, barely touching them with his own. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg’s neck and kissed his long-standing desire senseless. They also stripped the other’s clothes off as fast as they could on their way to Mycroft’s bedroom where there are supplies for a more vigorous activity involving sucking and licking and rubbing and hard cocks thrusting into asses. They have all weekend to spend together and the rest of the days to come too.


End file.
